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«Ehi! Who’s that nice pussy! » shrieks a detainee in the first cell I meet, as soon as I turn the corner.
If at first I was a little bit worried, now I’m really frightened. We reach a narrow corridor and my claustrophobia is at the maximum level. I find myself squashed between the wall and a long row of bars, behind which the detainees are busy in their small business. Someone is sleeping or playing cards. Some are sitting on the W.C. without dignity and look at me impudently, with arrogant defiance.
«But there’s no private loo in this bloody prison? » I ask perturbed to Mary
«Don’t be upset for so little, little princess» she answers amused. «It’s a matter of security. »
Ok, but to me is disgusting the idea of having to watch someone while is shitting off. I keep watching the prisoner faces trying to understand what’s going on in their minds. It’s not easy to imagine the feeling of someone forced to live in a burial plot with bars, without any other opening than the forced air duct, with these neon lights that hurts the eyes.
«What a shity place! I think that when somebody gets out of here, then he’d do anything not to come back again. »
I’m convinced of what I say. Instead Mary shakes her head and surprises me with her words: «I wish it was like that, Khyla! Actually people in jail get so frustrated that few, once out of here, devote themselves to honest activities. The 80 percent of the inmates that finish their punishment, within a few months, if not weeks, come back inside. And among those who don’t come back, most continue to commit crimes, but because of luck, they are not captured. »
I’m just a few steps from my office, where I could finally find some relief, when in the sheltered corner of a cell I see a guy, no more than twenty-five years old, sitting on the edge of his cot reading a book. To say it all, he’s a hot piece of tail. His skin is very clear, very different from that of his misfortune’s companions, mainly Latins and Afro Americans. He wears the uniform with the sleeves rolled up. From there emerge tattooed muscular biceps and for a moment I imagine those powerful arms surrounding my waist. I’m almost about to over pass his cell, when I see him looking away from the book and glancing enigmatically at me. He doesn’t say anything. He just put his eyes on me and I feel at the mercy of his look. My God! I’ve never seen eyes of that color. They are grey like a foggy day, cold like ice. I should instantly go if I don’t want to be incinerated, and yet I can’t move. To prolong sight with him, I pretend to have a cramp to a leg. He still looks at me for a few seconds, and then goes back to read his book and I feel lost and insecure as if someone had turned the light off. It hurts me not to be the centre of his world any more.
What a cretin I am! What the fuck...? I’m a security guard and he’s a fucked detainee. He could be here for a million different reasons, all equally abominable. Why should I allow myself to be fascinated? So I try to look away from him and to concentrate on the cover of the book he’s holding. The Amleto by Shakespeare. What is there to say? An acculturated prisoner. Mary drags me away and leads me to our office.
«Why all this hurry? » I ask huffy.
«Listen, Khyla. It’s not permitted to familiarize with the detainees. »
«What are you babbling about? I was walking on the corridor without any particular involvement. I just stopped a moment because I got a cramp in the leg. I didn’t do anything wrong...»
She shakes her head thoughtfully. «Because I stopped you, before you could decide to make the first step. I saw the way you looked at Matthew. »
Matthew... this is the name of the wonderful boy...
«And who’s this Matthew you’re talking about? » I say trying to confuse Mary.
«Don’t be coy. The detainee in the last cell, the one who was reading. »
At this point I’m unmasked and I don’t want to pretend a disinterest I don’t feel.
«Yes, I actually noticed him right away, but not for the reason that you believe. I was just thinking that he looks a good boy. I can’t imagine he committed a crime. »
She laughs aloud, living me dumbfounded.
«Don’t let his appearance to fool you, Khyla. The fact that he loves read, doesn’t change anything of his state. He’s a delinquent of the worst kind, other than a good boy. Do you wonder why he’s here? Three years ago he fucked his sister fifteen years old and she got pregnant. A real perverted. »
To this revelation I open wide my eyes. An incestuous pedophile, that’s what he is. And I don’t want anything to do with someone like this.
